


The Product of Three Equal Factors

by TheFlashFic



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:25:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlashFic/pseuds/TheFlashFic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All it takes is a mention of his name while they're in bed together, and suddenly Barry Allen is a constant presence in the relationship of Iris and Eddie. Now they have to figure out what to do about that. Eddie/Iris at the start, eventual threesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Product of Three Equal Factors

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm not entirely sure what this fic is going to be. It might be one long story, it might be just a series of connected one-shots. Either way, it's going to detail the progression from canon to Iris/Eddie/Barry, with all the problems and secret-sharing and smut that comes with it. (And h/c, and plot will probably sneak in, because that's what I write.)
> 
> This first part is mostly character exploration, to see if I've got my grasp around Eddie and Iris to begin with.

It's one of those perfect fucks. Iris is riding Eddie, slow and steady. She's come twice already, and he's getting desperate for release. Her hands are starting to slide against his skin, he's so damp with sweat. His face is red, and he's gone from those soft groans she always gets to a loud, harsh mantra of half-bitten-off words. Her name, mostly, hissed like a curse or whispered like a prayer, and she'll take either one.

His grip slides all over her. As he gets closer and closer to some kind of an edge, his fingers tend to tighten, to dent her skin and press into her muscle. It's his tell, he doesn't realize he does it, but on nights like this she uses it to draw things out as long as she wants.

She knows she's got it right when his mouth goes slack and his fingers start to press, and he looks up at her like she's a goddess and he's supplicant.

One more for her, she decides, and then she'll give him what he needs. She grasps his hand where it's wrapped tight around her hip, and she pulls it between her legs.

He groans, full-throated and eager. His fumbling fingers can't seem to find a rhythm on her clit but even the jerky touch is stimulation enough to make her shudder. Her hips roll her into his hand, and then down to pull his cock in deeper, and she bows her head until her hair is falling forward, blocking out everything in sight except him and their bed.

Eddie watches her face when she comes, and already he's got that look, like she's sacred and he's dependent on her for the changing of seasons.

She catches her breath and holds his hand in place against her, twitching against his fingers.

Eddie groans and strokes her, gentle and slow, as she shudders. And then he drops his head back against the pillow and laughs, thick like he's drunk from all this. “Swear I don't know how I can look your dad in the eye.”

Iris opens her heavy eyelids and looks down at him, rolling her hips around him in a sharp move that was meant to be chiding, but she's too fucking turned on to get away with that. “Really?” she asks, and her voice has some of that drunk thickness in it too. “Right now?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He speaks fast, but he knows her well enough to not be really worried. His other hand is still curved at her hip and he tightens it for a moment, as if he wants her to think he's worried she'll stop.

Iris grinds down on him, trying to separate her response from the pleasure thrumming through her body. “It's like you want me to...to stop.” She moves against him, slower than she meant to by now but not as slow as he deserves. “You'll be bringing up Barry next.”

His eyes dart up to her face and his hips twitch. “Barry,” he groans out. And maybe it's meant to just be repetition, dubiousness, but it comes out through his lust-slurring voice like he's actually calling the name.

Iris's head falls back, and she picks up her pace unconsciously. She can't think about Barry, not in bed, not anywhere, not since Christmas and the thousands of Barry things she doesn't want to think about. But he's there, in her head, and it's pink elephants. She breathes out his name again between them, “Barry,” and it's so easy to picture him there, to picture his long, gorgeous face and those wide green eyes. He always did look at her like he adored her, she can't help but see it, she can't help but think that if he somehow saw her the way she is right now he would be utterly awed.

He loves her, has loved her, and she can't begin to deal with that. Not when she's started to think about Eddie as someone she could actually settle down with long-term. Not when Eddie is right there beneath her, cursing and trembling and arching his hips up to meet her as she grinds down on him faster and faster.

But he'd be so beautiful to look at. If he were there, if he were watching, if he could see her like this, as passionate and powerful as she's ever felt. If he could see Eddie, patient and eager and slicked with sweat, gorgeous and strong as he drives into her, as he goes mindless in his search for release.

His name sticks on her mouth, Barry, Barry, and she can feel it falling from her in time with the drive of her hips, the way Eddie fills her up, drives in hard, finds just that spot inside her to make her crazy. She didn't plan to come again but she does, right as Eddie shouts and grips her hips and slams inside her, once, twice, and then he's arching and pulsing and he's so raw and sexual when he comes he's like a different man.

It's not until she's collapsed, panting for air against his side, that the full extent of what just happened hits her. “Oh my god,” she murmurs, her voice raw from pleasure. “Did I...” She curls into Eddie, though they're both radiating heat.

He manages to bring a hand over and lay it on her hip, the extent to which his muscles seem willing to move. “Did you...what? Whatever it was, I'm not complaining.”

But she isn't dishonest, even when she could simply accept his words and his touch and let it go. “I said his name. When I...oh God.”

Eddie's eyes open. His head drops to the side on the pillow and he looks at her.

She isn't horrified so much for him as for herself, for what it might mean. Does it have to mean something? She's never done something so...so _rude_ before. 

She looks up at him from where she's sagged against his chest. “Didn't I? Did you hear...?” 

Eddie meets her eyes. He smiles, and it's small and not quite comfortable, but it's real enough. “Guess you didn't notice.” 

“Notice what?” She lifts her head off his chest to meet his eyes. 

He returns her gaze with the directness that she's always liked about him, since day one. “I did too.” 

“You...” She sucks in her breath. 

He reaches up and smooths her damp hair with his fingers. “Guess we need to talk about that.”

Her eyes are wide as she drops back against his chest, feeling the racing of his heart, the way his breathing is still ragged. “Later.” 

He hums an agreement, his breathing already smoothing out. “Later,” he murmurs, and it doesn't seem to be bothering him enough to stall sleep. 

And strangely, somehow, it doesn't keep her from sleeping either. 

 

 

* * *

 

He told Iris he was bisexual from the start. The first real, non-dad-related conversation they had. He was trying to convince her that he, handsome and blonde and white and upper middle class, had a hard time before moving to Central City. 

“I mean, not trying to compare various struggles, I'm sure your dad had it worse. But getting through police training and making detective with a boyfriend at home wasn't exactly cake.” 

“Boyfriend?” She was only half surprised. He was pretty and well-put-together enough that she wondered, but she could have sworn he'd been flirting with her, too. 

And flirting he was. It was in his smile as he took in her surprise. “I'm entirely willing to see if it's easier with a girlfriend, of course.” 

It impressed her. His openness about it was especially impressive, at least enough that she took a second look at the guy she'd dismissed as being full of himself, and too cute to be interesting. 

Now it's added a new dimension to the fretting she's been alternatively wallowing in and avoiding since Christmas. Is Eddie actually attracted to Barry? Or was last night a fluke, a random mid-sex conversation that just went weird places at a bad time? When Eddie asked her if Barry was interested in her, had he noticed because he watches her, or Barry? Has he been jealous of her for drawing Barry's eyes? Or just worried about Barry trying to take his girl from him?

And Iris herself...what does it mean that picturing Barry's wide-eyed, awed gaze on her actually got her off?  _Did_ it get her off, or was it a sheer physical reaction to Eddie inside her? She's been so obsessed with thinking about (and not thinking about) Barry's confession to her that she hasn't actually asked herself the big question: how does she feel about Barry? 

She loves him, of course. She's thought of him as family for years. Not a brother, though people who don't know them well generally short-change their relationship by labeling them adopted siblings. Barry was her best friend before he ever moved in with them, and 'best friend' remains their dominant relationship. He became the best friend that was always there, at home, at school, at the dinner table. 

Her dad thinks of Barry like a son, but her brain never made that switch. 

So how does she feel, knowing that her best friend, her only best friend since before she could consciously remember, actually loves her? She didn't react to the confession well, but how much of that was Eddie? He was there in the room with them when Barry told her. Not physically, but he was in Barry's words and in Iris's thoughts, tangible enough that he might as well have been sitting on the couch. How much was her reaction influenced by him? 

If she and Eddie weren't a thing, what would it do to her knowing that Barry is in love with her? 

It's something she can't really answer: she and Eddie are a thing, and a thing she has no interest in losing. Maybe she could love Barry, maybe not, but if finding out means letting Eddie go then she just won't find out. 

It's too much to think about, and there's no point in it, really. Her and Eddie have to talk about it, have to figure out exactly where they stand. Iris feels like she's on unsteady ground suddenly, but at least she trusts Eddie to be honest with her. 

She doesn't know if she trusts herself, though. How can she, when she isn't even sure what kind of answer she wants Eddie to give? 

 

 

* * *

 

He told Barry weeks ago that he once felt threatened by him. That's an understatement. Truth is, Iris only went out with Eddie at all to get her mind off Barry, who was still in the early stages of what would be a very long coma. She hadn't been thinking clearly at all, or she never would have gone out with him. She needed something, though, something that wasn't hospital rooms and heart monitors and no response. Joe was too worried to give her an outlet, so she turned to Eddie. 

Eddie knew that at the time. He was fine with it. It gave him an in, and obviously he handled it right, because a year on there they are. Still, he never forgets Barry's part in it. If there had never been a lightning bolt, Iris never would have looked at Eddie twice.

Barry was a constant feature of their conversations in the beginning, and the middle, and he still is. Iris had phases of grief during his coma where she wanted to talk about anything but Barry, but those never lasted long. Every story she tells, there Barry is. Every memory she has, every belief she's formed about the world, Barry has some part in. Not quite as big a part as Joe, but he's always there. 

Anybody would think hard about that, about a person with that level of influence. Iris and Barry are both attractive, both close in age. Barry's a year younger than Iris technically, but he skipped a grade in school and they were joined at the hip just the same as they grew up. 

So yeah, Eddie feels threatened. Though... _threatened_ isn't quite the right word. More like he's simply overly aware of Barry, and the implications that constantly float around with him. He stays on guard. He watches Barry, a lot. 

Which has played a part in his current situation, no doubt. 

He only met Barry a couple of times before the lightning strike, and it was strictly work-related. He noticed the cute, smiling forensic tech in his peripherals, in the casual way you notice a person you could grow to be interested in if life plays out a certain way. But nothing more than casual. 

When he met Barry again after his nine months of coma, Eddie knew so much about him that it didn't seem like Barry would be anything but a disappointment to get to know. Nine months of Iris and Joe's stories had set him up as this brilliant, funny, driven but awkward embodiment of sheer radiant light, and it was absurd to think a real person could actually live up to that. 

But then, there he was. Just as described: awkward but cheerful, brilliant and brightly lit. Quicker to smile than almost anyone Eddie's ever met, despite a past that would embitter most people. Eddie saw Joe in Barry's curiosity, and Iris in his smile. He also saw Iris and Joe themselves come to life when Barry woke up, becoming newer, fuller people than they had been in the months before. 

Eddie is drawn to the whole situation, in a sense. Joe's his partner, which means more than most people realize. Iris is his lover, his sunshine. The two of them are family. And then here comes this third person, someone who completes a circle that Eddie didn't realize was incomplete until he saw it whole. Together they're a family, in the most perfect sense of the word Eddie's ever seen. 

His own parents are in Keystone. Close, but not right next door. Still, Eddie doesn't feel the need to visit them every week. They're...traditional. His dad was a state senator most of his childhood, and his mom is still a nurse. They're busy, always were. His mom likes formal Christmas dinners and joking about grandchildren. The lifelong politician in his dad likes having a cop for a son, and has made several offensively-supportive comments about what an attractively progressive choice for a wife Iris West would be. 

They're not people Eddie has to speak to every day, in other words. He loves them, but in a distant way that makes Joe and Iris and Barry's relationship look utterly foreign to him. Foreign, and ideal, and something to envy. 

He wants to be part of that unit that they make up. Sometimes lately he feels like he is, though in bizarre ways he never would have anticipated. Sharing the truth with Joe that there are humans in Central City with abilities like something out of a comic book. Sharing with Iris, in a way, this thing with The Flash, the attack on the street that seems like it brought them closer together. With Barry it's little things. Sharing bullying stories, boxing lessons in the corner of his lab at the station. The bigger thing they have in common is Iris, and they're not in any place to share her with each other. 

But he'd be lying if he said he never thought about it. Sharing her, sharing him, being shared between the two of them. 

Now it's out there. It literally got into bed with him and Iris. He wonders if he should dread it, and the problems it might bring. But when he starts thinking apprehensive thoughts he just remembers the look on Iris's face as she shut her her eyes and moved on top of him, those amazing lush lips forming Barry's name as she took her pleasure. 

Sex with Iris has always been poetry, but that night it became transcendent. If Eddie had his say he would grab on to what happened, bring it to life, keep it close for as long as his grasp held. But it's not his say, not entirely. He and Iris need to reach some kind of agreement, and that's going to be tricky enough. If they manage that miracle, there's still one huge unknown to influence how things go. 

That unknown is Barry himself. 


End file.
